Room at the Inn
by On-the-right-road
Summary: A one-shot based on the Call the Midwife Christmas Special. WARNING: If you haven't yet seen the episode, here be spoilers. A missing scene involving Shelagh, Patrick & Timothy and a certain pyjama top...


_**This is a **_**_missing scene which takes place during the Christmas Special episode,_**_** inspired by a prompt on tumblr requested by thymefortea - thanks & hope you enjoy it.**_

_**Disclaimer: Not mine. The characters (and one of the actors!) belong to Heidi Thomas. I'm just borrowing them, but I promise to be gentle with them and return them in good condition...**_

"Any room at the inn?"

He tamped down his curiosity and confusion the second he saw her shiver in the cold night air.

"Of course, of course. Come inside."

He opened the door wide and reached to take what he'd assumed was a small suitcase from her hands.

"Your dress?" he asked in surprise as he realised what it actually was. She took the opportunity to squeeze past him into the warmth and sanctity of the hallway.

"There's been a bomb scare," she explained. "Down at the factory site in Raike Street. They've found an unexploded bomb so they've evacuated the surrounding area as a precaution."

A smile started to play on his lips. "And you brought your wedding dress?"

Her cheeks coloured immediately at his observation. "Well yes, it was quite a to-do. The electricity went off, the police were hammering on people's front doors and I didn't have much time. All I could think was I might not be allowed back in to fetch it before the wedding. I'm afraid I panicked rather."

"Well I'm glad you did," he declared in a soothing voice, trying to ease the concern he saw on her face. He reached a hand out to her and she grasped it gratefully. "We have a very important date to keep. We can't have old Adolf delaying proceedings now can we?"

He tugged her gently towards him but, before he could follow through on his intended course of action, his attention was diverted by the sight of Timothy padding down the stairs and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Dad? What's going on? I thought I heard voices. Oh, hello Auntie Shelagh,"

She had pulled away and turned to greet the young boy. "Hello Timothy. I'm sorry if I woke you. I was just telling your father that I've been evacuated because of an unexploded bomb."

"A bomb?" Timothy echoed excitedly, now wide awake.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

A short while later Shelagh had answered all of Timothy's breathless questions on the matter of explosive devices and was recounting the more mundane events of the evening to his father:

"So I was supposed to go to the evacuation centre they've set up at the Leopold Institute, but I didn't want to be any bother to the Nonnatuns. They have so many people to deal with. I thought I should come here instead..."

She was sitting demurely on the edge of the sofa, hands clasped in her lap, uncertainty still clouding her features. "You don't mind do you? I am sorry if I woke you. And Timothy of course." The boy in question was even now busy fetching sheets, blankets and a spare pillow from the upstairs airing cupboard.

"You didn't wake me," Patrick reminded her for the umpteenth time. "And of course I don't mind." He reached for her hand and drew her engagement ring to his lips, kissing it tenderly, as he'd taken to doing virtually every day since he had placed it on her finger. "This will be your home soon anyway."

He glanced up to see her beaming with joy and relief at him.

In a quietly hesitant voice she requested: "Could I trouble you for some nightclothes?"

"Have you none with you?" he asked, indicating the big pink case he had placed on the side table.

"Only my wedding dress. And I don't feel able to wear that tonight in case the groom sees it." She smiled to indicate that she was teasing, but nevertheless she couldn't help but notice the light which flared in his eyes at her description of him. "I want it to be a surprise for you," she said softly.

"Yes," he murmured, his voice suddenly catching, his mind fast-forwarding. She watched his face fondly, a small smile dancing on her lips. "Patrick?"

It took a gentle squeeze of his hand to bring him back to the here and now. "Do you think I could use the... um, the facilities as well?"

"Right. Yes. Of course." He stood abruptly and offered her his hand. "I'll show you the way." She ducked her head, amused. "I know the way," she reminded him. "I was here earlier to sit with Timothy while he did his homework, remember?"

Nevertheless, she slipped her fingers into his and allowed him to lead her out of the room and up the stairs. This time it was her heart and mind which were racing, picturing this same scenario two days hence. He stopped outside the bathroom door and gently disentangled his fingers from hers. "Wait here and I'll fetch you something to wear."

She watched him disappear into his bedroom, her breathing gradually returning to normal. She only turned away from her contemplation of the bedroom door when she heard Timothy emerging from the walk-in airing cupboard on the landing, his arms replete with sheets, blankets and pillows.

"Thank you for going to so much trouble Timothy," she said, causing him to almost drop them in surprise.

"Oh," he said, a look of confusion appearing on his face. "Are you sleeping up here then?"

The blush which rose on her cheeks was immediate and deep crimson, but she was spared having to answer by the reappearance of her fiancé.

"Could you take those downstairs please Timothy? And put the kettle on, make us all a cup of tea? That's a good lad."

As the young boy padded carefully down the stairs his father said quietly: "He has a point you know? I could always sleep downstairs." Shelagh was shaking her head before he had finished the sentence, still acutely aware where her thoughts had been headed not a minute previously. The exchange had clarified matters for her; the first time she slept in Patrick's bed it was to be with him at her side, together for the first time as husband and wife - when it would be _their_ bed.

"No, no I wouldn't dream of it," she demurred, unable to explain her reasoning further.

She noticed the garment he was holding and nodded towards it. "Is that for me?"

He unfolded the pyjama top then and held it up towards her. "Yes, yes it is. It's going to be a bit big on you I'm afraid."

She reached for it, already smiling at the thought of how the top would swamp her small frame. Her fingers brushed over the loose cotton and she gratefully took it from him, clutching it to her, conscious of how it smelled of him, of how wearing it would be like being wrapped in him. She couldn't meet his eyes while her feelings were raging this way, so she simply uttered a quiet "Thank you" and retreated to the safety of the bathroom.

Much to her surprise, he was still waiting for her when she emerged several minutes later. The blue striped top did indeed swamp her, reaching halfway down her legs, the sleeves hanging down over her hands, and the shoulders bunched round her neck. Nevertheless she heard him inhale sharply when he saw her. She looked down shyly, self-consciously fiddling with the lapel while she awaited his verdict.

It was delivered by way of his hand covering hers, stilling her fidgeting fingers. His hand then travelled up until it was resting under her chin, and slowly he raised it so she met his gaze. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "But I have to do this..."

Breath hitching and eyelids fluttering, she watched as his face lowered towards her, almost as if in slow motion, until finally she felt him press his lips to hers. They began to exchange a chaste and tender kiss - until they were stopped in their tracks by an anxious voice echoing up the stairs.

"Dad, will you hurry up please? The kettle's boiled and I think the tea's getting cold!"

She giggled against Patrick's lips, feeling them stretch into a smile. He took a step back and shrugged his shoulders in amused resignation. "Welcome to Turner family life, my love."

Shelagh smiled back in delight, taking his proffered hand. And so they made their way downstairs to share their smiles with the waiting boy, safely ensconced in the heart of the family home.

THE END

_**Reviews would be lovely, thank you muchly and so to you. :-)**_


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